Fawn
by ManualPuppy
Summary: Fawn and Alice are not as innocent as they would have you believe. Their carefully constructed act will fall apart at the seams when Fawn tires of life on the road and develops a crush on a certain gun-wielding teenager. Carl/OC, possible either Daryl/OC or Rick/OC (I'll let you decide since I can't!)
1. Chapter 1

Fawn

**Fawn is an absolutely beautiful instrumental track from Tom Waits' album Alice. I thoroughly suggest giving it a listen :)**

**I don't own the Walking Dead or any characters or plot you recognise.**

Chapter One: Deer Season

**All I want is the best for our lives my dear,**

**And you know my wishes are sincere**

** - Beirut, A Sunday Smile.**

The strangers swept through the camp just after dawn, decimating everything in their path. Gathered together to eat and shake away the fears of the night before with meaningless chatting, the medium-sized, well stocked group didn't stand a chance when the bullets came like rain out of the early morning fog. Of the fifteen that lived in that little camp only one escaped, slipping into the undergrowth in the confusion. She would have made it out unnoticed as well, were it not for the group's leader calling out to her desperately as she disappeared into the thicket. She heard him scream her name as she left the camp well behind her, running as though demons of hell itself were nipping at her heels. She heard the gunshot that ended his life, and the mocking calls of the attackers behind her.

"He say Fawn?" Laughter, the cruel kind better suited to a hyena than a man. "Looks like it's deer season boys!"

The men followed behind her, the sound of their voices still echoing in her ears over the ragged, torn pants of her laboured breathing. She struggled to move silently, weaving through the trees, dodging branches that scratched and clawed at her thin arms, leaping the fallen trunks and densely packed bushes which clung to the bare skin of her legs. She could hear them laughing, calling her name tauntingly in the distance. "Come back, little Fawn! We only want to talk!" Gritting her small, white teeth she pushed on, cheeks wet with tears that streamed from her huge, brown eyes and cursing the well-meaning man who drew the attackers attention to her.

An arm shot out like a snake from the shadows behind a tree she races past, grabbing her around her thin waist. She let out a small, shocked scream only to be immediately silenced by a calloused hand across her mouth. The arm's owner spun her around, hand still firmly clasped around her mouth, and her panicked eyes met with the stormy green ones above. Recognition filtered through her adrenaline soaked mind and she was calm finally, throwing her arms around her saviour with a muffled sob.

The newcomer pressed a skinny finger to her lips, holding the grief racked girl at arm's length, and motioned silently to the branches above. Sparing no time to acknowledge the gesture, the girl scrambled up the trunk with a small, encouraging push from the woman below. From high up in the tree's comforting arms she could only watch her friend's skinny back disappear into the forest beyond and wish desperately that she would return.

She listened, trembling with fear in the early morning chill, as the men draw closer to the base of her own tree, still laughing among themselves. They called to her again, mocking voices drifting up from the forest floor, but their tone had become more subdued, bored even, once their prey was momentarily lost. All too quickly they fell to complaints and childish bickering, throwing themselves down on the dirt and lighting cigarettes, some even leaning their backs against the very tree in which she hid, while their leader pawed at the leaf strewn ground, searching for her tracks.

She shivered violently and held her breath, clawing back a sob as the leader, a heavy set man with a cruel blade where his right hand once was, stirred the earth around the base of the tree with his remaining hand. He glanced up, gaze sweeping across the leafy canopy. Fawn could almost _feel_ his cold blue eyes settle on her, though there was no change in his demeanour that would suggest that he was aware of her presence. For too long his sharp glare settled on the at the canopy near where she hid, a sickening grin seemingly permanently slapped across his face, and the small girl shook like a leaf in the wind on her branch, willing herself to be still. She considered moving higher into the tree top above, or perhaps abandoning the dubious safety of the branches all together and taking her chances on foot, anything to escape that icy gaze. But she silenced those thoughts, instead pushing her scrawny back harder against the rough bark behind her. She had something most had lost in this world, and it is that which kept her rooted to the spot, though her eyes were squeezed shut and her breath caught in her throat.

In the distance a gunshot rang out, breaking the awful, painful silence, and Fawn opened her eyes in time to see birds swarm to the East, flocking like dark shadows against the blinding orb of still rising sun as they took to the skies from the comfort of their perches, seeking to put distance between themselves and the crack of gunfire. With new energy the men below sprung to life, shouldering their weapons and racing off towards the sound, petty squabbles swiftly forgotten with the promise of a new chase. At last the girl could allow herself a few deep breaths, calming her thundering heart before pulling herself up to the higher branches.

From her new vantage point on the world, Fawn caught a few fleeting glimpses of her would be pursuers in the distance, between the thick, verdant branches of the forest roof. When she judged them far enough away she relaxed, wrapping her bony arms around herself, and waited.

She, unlike many others, had not lost faith, though the hope and loyalty she treasures greedily is not exactly the biblical kind. Fawn, a sensible girl throughout, chose a long time ago to instead place her trust in something far more tangible than the great beard in the sky.

She had faith in the woman with the stormy green eyes. And so she waited.

* * *

The sun had begun its slow descent into the horizon a while ago. Fawn watches the woods change from the warm serenity of the day to the unnerving shadows of the evening. She pulls her knees up to her chest and covers her ears with the palms of her hands, trying to ignore the suspicious forest noises around her. Twigs crunch in the silence and she imagines the moans of the dead surrounding the tree below.

"Please come back" the voice she hears, though her own, is unrecognisable to her, so lost and pathetic. She holds back the tears that threaten to spill and dismisses the rumbling of her empty stomach. "Please come back" she begs again, more forcefully this time, staring out into the rapidly darkening woods.

_Please come back._

_It began with the riots. They spread across the globe like wildfire. Her parents hadn't wanted her to see, banishing her from the room whenever the news came on, but she and her brother stood at the living room door, taking it in turns to peer through the cracks in the frame._

_London, Rome, Moscow, people took to the streets in a way never before seen in history. The reports blamed the 'protests' on public rage over the lack of treatment for the infected, but there was no anger on the faces in the crowds, only fear. Through the crack between the door and frame she sometimes caught a glimpse of them, the infected, in the press of bodies. The camera always tried to pan away quickly, but if you paid close enough attention you saw them. There was something off about the way they moved, something not quite right about their faces. Fawn tried to believe the reporters, her brother knew better though. These people weren't rioting, they were running for their lives. But at every turn the army kept pushing them back towards whatever it is they feared so much._

_Soon enough the 'riots' weren't just on the TV anymore, they were down the road in Atlanta, they were happening in the town centre. The neighbours children were sick, and sometimes she caught glimpses of them through her bedroom window. The youngest stopped moving one morning. Roscoe, her big brother, dragged her away and ordered her not to look. She peeked at them that afternoon but the boy was no longer in his bed. There was blood on the window._

_The next day Fawn watched a woman die on live television. Roscoe covered her mouth with his hand to stop her screaming when the dead woman crawled back up and sank her teeth into the reporter's throat. They didn't leave the house after that. Their father boarded up the windows and locked the doors._

_Curfew, contamination, infection, fever, death, reanimation. Fawn began to fear words before even knowing their meaning. She was only eleven, and, though she didn't understand it, the world she knew was ending._

_Two weeks after the first reports the news began broadcasting the first messages of hope. Safe zones, they promised, places free from infected and protected by the army, places where families could go. For the first time in days her parents seemed hopeful. They even laughed, though it was that choked, forced laugh that adults use to reassure children._

_They left her. They'd only be gone a few hours, they reassured her over and over, they would collect her grandparents and come straight back. They took Roscoe with them and locked her in the basement with their food and water supplies._

_She lost track of the days after a while. The lights went off and they never came back on. She lived in total darkness for a long time, her eyes eventually adjusting to the scant daylight that crept under the door at the top of the stairs. A few times she tried to rattle the locked door open, only to be frightened away by the moans, thumps and scratches from the other side and scuttle back down into her rank darkness._

_She ate cold beans and tuna and went to the toilet in a bucket. She cried almost constantly._

_Then she came, the woman with the green eyes. Fawn had cowered in the corner of the room when she had descended the stairs, holding a flash light in one hand and a gun in the other. She'd been ashamed when the woman's nose had wrinkled, embarrassed by her filth and the stench of the squalid room, and let out a small sob. The tiny, human noise made the stranger jump and she shone the blinding light from her little flash light in Fawn's face. Strange really, she'd been sure that she would die, yet almost relieved by the thought._

_She opened her eyes after a few moments and was shocked to find those stormy green eyes only inches away from her own. The look on the intruder's face was thoughtful, if not a little shocked. She didn't seem bothered by Fawn's unwashed scent, but the little girl hugged herself tighter in shame regardless. The silence stretched out for what felt like an age before the stranger spoke. "You're the Addams girl" Fawn nodded although the woman seemed to already know the answer. "Do you remember me?" She shook her head and the elder frowned. "My family used to live next door"_

_She managed to squeak "The Lyons?" And with a forced smile the woman nodded. Fawn remembered Mrs Lyons, who used to make French pastries for the neighbourhood every Christmas. She remembered Mr Lyons pulling into their driveway on his police motorbike. She remembered the little boy, lying completely still in his bed, and the blood on the window. Tears streamed down her dirty cheeks._

_"Hey, hey" The woman patted her shoulder awkwardly. "It's Fawn, isn't it?" She nodded, eyes fixed on her filthy trainers, no longer bothering to hold back her tears. The woman took her grubby face in her long, thin fingers and lifted her chin until their eyes met. Fawn tried to return her warm smile. "My name is Alice. You can come with me, if you like"_


	2. Chapter 2

Fawn

**I don't own the Walking Dead or any characters or plot you recognise.**

Thanks so much for the reviews and follows I've had so far :) This chapter is a short one, but hopefully to the point. I will be trying to update every Sunday from now on but my schedule for the next few weeks is fairly hectic, so please forgive me if I end up being a few days late here and there :)

Chapter Two: Run, You Stupid Girl

**She craves a home that she can go in**

**A sheltered cave that I have never seen**

**Not in my life**

**And not even in my dreams**

** - Bonnie 'Prince' Billy, Wolf Among Wolves.**

Fawn watches Alice march back from the west, the last, dying rays of the sun at her back like heavy-handed angel symbology. The woman stops a short distance away, one hand on her hip and the other clutching her cruel, nail-studded baseball bat and, though her face is hidden in shadow, Fawn is certain that her friend is looking up at her. She scrambles down the tree with poorly contained joy, barely noticing her hands scrape on the rough bark, and, as soon as her feet touch the floor, flings her small frame into the woman's arms. Alice returns the embrace with more warmth than Fawn has seen from her in months.

"I thought you weren't coming back" the girl whispers into her friend's stomach. In the gloom, unseen by Fawn, Alice's face briefly contorts into a frown "Why are you wet?"

"Found a stream and waded down it a while. Couldn't risk leading them straight back to you, that big guy is a pretty decent tracker by all accounts. Ended up a few miles west of here" Fawn nods, burying her face deeper into Alice's torso. "Why didn't you meet me, Fawny?" She asks finally. The girl tries to cling desperately to the hug, reluctant to answer the question, but already Alice is gently pushing her away and Fawn knows that the moment of tenderness, the likes of which are becoming increasingly few and far between, is over. She swallows her disappointment and fiddles with her fingers, wishing the embrace could have lasted just a few moments longer.

"I... I quite liked them. I thought maybe we could stay" she doesn't need to look up to know Alice's reaction, but she tries to catch the woman's eye regardless. Alice avoids her gaze, fiddling with the points of the rusty nails hammered into her wooden baseball bat while her stormy glare searches the growing darkness. "I thought if I stayed then... then you would too. And we could be safe and maybe you could..." Alice's face seems to darken, and the shadows deepen the almost perfectly straight scar, as though someone had placed a long, sharp blade against her left eye socket and slowly pushed down, splitting her plump cheek and stopping only seconds away from slicing her pretty green eye, that runs from just below her hairline down to the corner of her lips, contorting her mouth into a twisted half-smile.

Fawn tries to reach out, wanting more than anything to draw her closer, but the woman turns her shoulder to the girl. "Maybe I could what Fawny?" Gone is the soft, calming tone Alice used before, her voice is as cold and sharp as steel now, cutting through the girl like a knife. Fawn can't answer through the lump forming in her throat. Alice pushes her for a response regardless, green eyes flashing with cold fire. "Maybe I could _what_?"

"Maybe you could be how you were before" she squeaks finally, shrinking away from the woman. She expects her friend to be angry, but Alice merely sighs, running her fingers over her scar. When she finally turns her stormy gaze back to Fawn there is nothing but regret in her eyes.

"I need you to know that this is who I am now." She crouches to Fawn's eye level, trying to hold the bitterness back from her voice. "I will keep us alive, but things can't ever be the way they were" the girl stares down at her shoes, but Alice pushes her chin back up with her fingertips. "Do you understand me, Fawn?" She nods, fighting back tears. There's remorse on Alice's face but she makes no move to take back her words, instead just silently pushing the girl back towards the east, where her makeshift camp lies.

The walk takes them nearly an hour and, although the moon rises to shed some light on their path, Alice's memory is directing them and her steady arms are holding the rapidly tiring Fawn up as her heavy feet stumble over the tree trunks that litter the dark forest floor. More than once along the way they are forced to stop to dispatch the few Roamers that stray too close to them in the darkness. When this happens Fawn hangs back, knowing that even if she had her gun, which is currently hanging from its holster on Alice's belt, she would be forbidden to use it. The shadows swallow up Alice and her prey, but she can hear her friend's bat hitting its target with sickening, wet cracks. Each time the woman returns to the silvery light there are wet, dark stains on her hands and clothing. Fawn is so accustom to the sight that she barely notices, and they continue to the camp in perfect silence, only daring to speak when they step over the line of tin cans hanging from gleaming razor wire that surround their temporary camp.

Fawn gratefully climbs into her familiar, battered sleeping bag with a content sigh. Alice sits next to her and the girl rests her head on her lap, taking comfort from the presence of her older friend. The green-eyed woman strokes her hair gently, seemingly lost in thought. "It was the same people" her mouth sets in a hard line and her eyes search the still forest. Fawn feels the muscles in Alice's leg tense up, but she carries on stroking her hair and thinking out loud. "Remember those army guys we hit up for ammo and food a few days ago?"

The dark-haired girl doesn't answer, though Alice just carries on without seeming to notice her silence. "I bumped into them yesterday. Figured I'd go see if they'd moved on yet or not. We got a good haul from them. They didn't deserve what happened." She wants to know what the woman found, but can't seem to bring herself to ask. "I'd guess they'd been hit just after we left them. And today... They're just a few steps behind us, Fawny. And I don't like it" Fawn shivers at her friend's words, a movement which Alice mistakes for cold and she shrugs off her oversized leather jacket to drape over the skinny girl's body. Fawn breathes in Alice's comforting smell, trying to ignore her grumbling stomach, and makes a small noise of disappointment when her makeshift pillow is gently removed from under her head.

"Eat this" A can is placed, open, by her head. She grabs at it greedily, all but pouring the contents into her small mouth. Once the meagre portion of food is gone, Alice returns to her role as Fawn's pillow. She continues where she left off stroking the girl's hair comfortingly, softly whispering the words to songs Fawn doesn't know until her heavy eyelids close over her deep brown irises. She falls into a deep sleep, nightmares held at bay by the soft voice and familiar smell of her last friend in the world. She dreams of the life Alice once spoke of, but seemed to have of late lost all hope in finding, a simple, safe life in green pastures under an impossibly blue sky.

* * *

She is jolted awake in perfect darkness by Alice jumping to her feet and desperately scrambles out of her sleeping bag, still clutching the older woman's jacket around her skinny shoulders. The woods around echo with the groans and heavy footsteps of the dead and the girl's head spins with fear.

"Fawny, go!" She clings to Alice, begging her friend not to leave her, but the woman shoves her away, forcing her arms into the sleeves of the jacket and thrusting the almost comically oversized, nail-studded bat into the girl's pleading hands. "Run, you stupid girl!" She hisses, pushing her again in the opposite direction to the incoming herd. Fawn's eyes begin to adjust to the low light that grows slowly around the horizon and she reels in terror at the sheer quantity of stumbling shapes in the shadows. She turns again in terror to her saviour. Alice draws her gun from her belt and there is no trace of deceit in her face when she whispers:

"Run, or I'll shoot you myself." Tears spring up in the girl's eyes but she finally turns and sprints into the dark embrace of the woods, not daring to spare a glance behind her as gunfire echoes through the tree tops.

The heavy leather jacket snags on branches as she races between the trees and the wooden bat tires her arms but still the little Fawn carries on, the nagging pit of betrayal in her stomach pushing her on even as the tears stream down her face and the sun rises. After a few hours she reaches the banks of a small stream and slows to a steady walk, only then noticing that the woods are peaceful and the gunfire had long since fallen silent. She turns to face back the way she came, half expecting to see Alice calmly approaching behind her, but the woods are still beyond the usual morning chorus. Her fingers tighten around the worn handle of Alice's trusted weapon, tiny knuckles white against her tanned skin, and she chokes back a sob, wiping her streaming nose on the sleeve of her friend's jacket.

For a long time the girl just stands there, head hung as she swallows her bitter disappointment at her friend's disappearance, but eventually she lifts her chin and turns away, wading through the stream that reaches nearly to her waist. Half-way through the freezing, calm waters her head leaps up at the distant sound of blaring sirens, sharp ears pinpointing the direction of the sound. She hesitates again, shivering as the water laps gently at her legs and, with a last, lingering glance behind her, squares her shoulders and follows her curiosity towards the sound and, she hopes, the people making it.


	3. Chapter 3

Fawn

**Hello hello :) A slightly earlier update this week, I meant to write a few paragraphs before bed and got ever so slightly carried away aha. It's now nearly 5 am, and here's your next chapter :). I feel a bit cruel to poor Fawny at the moment, but not to worry, we'll find out what happened to Alice soon enough.**  


**I don't own the Walking Dead or any plot or characters you recognise.**

Chapter Three: She's Not Dead

**God, there are guns growing out of our bones**

**God, every road takes us farther from home**

**- Iron & Wine, On Your Wings**

_For the first time in nearly two full weeks, Alice opened the front door with the intention of sitting in the garden of her tiny, new house and watching the neighbourhood for the first time since she moved in. Speckled head to toe in paint of various colours, she breathed in deep the fresh air, washing from her lungs the fumes with a slight cough. It had been so long she had almost completely forgotten what it felt like to breathe air that wasn't permeated with the stench of solvents and dust._

_Phone unplugged, mobile off, TV stored away, internet disconnected. For nearly half a month Alice had been completely shut off from the outside world, concentrating solely on decorating the tiny house that was to be her first home of her own._

_She stretched in the still warm evening air, wincing at the pops and cracks of her joints, before leaning her slim back against the door frame. Long, slender fingers (the fingers of a pianist) searched briefly in her pockets for a cigarette and a lighter and the flickering light of the flame illuminated her features, smooth and unspoilt by scars or blemishes, and flashed across her green eyes. Alice before the outbreak bore no resemblance to the Alice that Fawn knows so well; There used to be a playful glimmer in her eyes and a well fed curve to her cheeks and body._

_For a long while she remained outside, enjoying the soft breeze on her sun deprived skin, but eventually she regretfully turned back to her house and the countless jobs still to do, leaving the door open to allow some air to circulate through the stifling house._

_The breeze followed her inside, disturbing the dust sheets draped over every surface and tempting her back outside to the rapidly cooling but still pleasant night. She ran a hand through her thick brown hair with a sigh, dislodging flakes of blue paint that floated on the breeze around her as she lifted the dust sheets in the kitchen aimlessly, searching for her cafetière with no real determination or drive._

_She heard the strange rasping, groaning noises coming from the back garden but thought little of them, assuming they originated from her vastly overweight pet cat. She dug around in a cupboard for a while, pushing her way past the tins of beans, ravioli and various fruits to find a tin of cat food. Never having really had the time or energy to cook, Alice lived solely on canned food. She opened the tin with a frown, wondering not for the first time if her cat was eating better than her._

_Can in hand, she pulled open the curtain that covered the French doors to the back garden and opened them wide. "Rasputin?" She called, rattling the food bowl against the tiled patio. The rasping breathing intensified, along with a wet chomping noise she hadn't noticed before. A strange shiver shot down her spine and her heartbeat quickened, pumping adrenaline through her veins. She could hear the blood rushing through her ears as she carefully rounded the corner to the narrow alleyway between her house and the one next door._

_There was someone crouched in the alley. The person, a man, wore dirty clothes and appeared to be noisily eating something. Alice's first thought was that perhaps he was eating from her bin, and, despite her desire to help the man, she found herself backing away, still clutching the cat food in her hands. There were shreds of grey fur scattered across the floor and she clasped her hand over her mouth in shock._

_That was when the creature, not a man any more, turned to her with glassy eyes devoid of reason and understanding. It's face was drenched in blood and she stared with horror at the deflated grey shape behind it, a sad smear that was all that remained of Rasputin the fat, grey cat. She turned and ran back into her house, slamming the French doors behind her. For the first time in almost two weeks, Alice turned on the radio._

_For a while she stared at horror at the creature that slammed itself up against the glass, barely processing the words hissed out of the old speakers. Atlanta. She was sure she'd heard the word Atlanta._

_A chill travelled down her spin, convulsing her body in a painful shudder. The breeze that had so comforted her before was now sinister, hostile and far, far too cold…_

_The breeze? With horror Alice turned to the door of the kitchen that hung ajar, blocking the hallway from her sight. _

_She had left the front door open._

Fawn has decided, as she curls herself up in the branches of an old pine tree, that this is all a lesson. Another of Alice's tests. Once she has learnt what is being taught then Alice would return, she would sling her arm over Fawn's shoulder and made a series of deer-based puns. Granted, this was rather more extreme than any lesson her friend had tried to teach her thus far, but she had always said that Fawn would need to learn, to understand the world as it is now.

Even though Fawn lies in the shade of the leaves, the mid-day sun beats down on her head and draws from her body more sweat than she would have thought her body could possibly contain. Perhaps if she removed Alice's thick leather jacket the streams of perspiration that runs down her back would at least be slowed, but she can't bring herself to do it.

Dehydrated and exhausted, she wants nothing more than to rest, but it evades her, giving her only the heavy eyes and lack of willpower without the release of sleep. At a loss of what else to do, she turns her head towards where the now silent sirens came from and clutches Alice's bat to her chest like a child with a teddy bear. It occurs to her that there might be water there, maybe even food. Perhaps, and she tries to quash the hope that rises in her at the thought, perhaps Alice would be there, drawn to the noise like she was.

Her bottom lip trembles against her will under the weight of her predicament and she clamps her teeth down on the dry flesh to still it. She'd never really made such a serious decision on her own, and not for the first time she wishes Alice was here.

But she isn't. There is only Fawn and the decision she makes now, for herself. She lowers her tiny frame back down to the dry earth and, swaying in the hot Georgia sun, heads off again towards whatever safety could be found beyond the baking woods.

* * *

She caught the odour of smoke before she saw the fire, and she saw the flames, far enough away from the trees to prevent a forest fire and surrounded by the still animated corpses, before she noticed the fences and the prison. Burning flesh. The people here are burning corpses, and, judging by the smell, not fresh ones.

People before the outbreak would have been horrified at the thought of a child Fawn's age knowing by smell the difference between burning human flesh and the meat of an animal, but then again they would have been horrified by a lot of things that had happened since the world ended. .

There is a funeral taking place behind the high fences, people are gathered around multiple graves on the grassy lawn. The young girl's eyes widen in surprise at the Roamer free area and the group of people, both larger ones than she has seen in months, that stand without fear in the open yard. She hangs by the gates, unseen by the masses, like a fly on the wall observing their personal mourning.

Glancing up and down the length of the fences, a flash of orange catches her eye, and she sees where the fence has been cut open and sewn shut again with vibrant orange cable. She chews gently on her lip, ripping the cracked flesh with her sharp teeth. The last thing she wants is to disturb this people in their moment of remembrance, but she can't stay out here. Already small groups of the dead are emerging from the tree-line and the small girl is woozy from the lack of water and sleep. She can barely lift the bat which Alice entrusted to her. Perhaps these people would let her sleep in the yard and allow her a few sips of water, and in the morning she could leave to search for Alice in the woods.

Alice. Her heart pangs a little at the thought of her friend, alone in the woods without her jacket or her bat, vulnerable to bites and unable to defend herself. Fawn is no tracker, she knows her chances of finding Alice are remote but she cannot give up hope on her. Alice is alive out there somewhere, searching for her. Fawn has never been more sure of anything in her life, and has absolutely _no_ idea why her fingers tremble as she untangles the cable from the wire fence. She climbs carefully through the hole, securing it behind her as the first group of Roamers reach the fence.

Once again she clutches the bat to her chest and lets her eyes drift across the tree-line, half expecting to see Alice beaming at her through the thick foliage, gesturing for the girl to come to her. But she's not there. Fawn isn't worried, she _isn't_, she had a good few hours head start on her friend and it would take her a while to pick up on her trail. Alice is no tracker either, it might take her days to follow the girl's erratic path through the woods.

A barely audible noise at her back manages to draw her attention away from scouring the tree-line. The sound is so quiet, the soft grinding of metal on metal, but still manages to echo over the groans of the hungry dead that push their bodies desperately against the links of the fence, fingers pushing through in a pointless attempt to reach her. She stiffens, hugging her torso tight, and thinks about running. The corridor between the two fences runs away on either side towards two watch towers, there's no reason she can't make it to one, climb up to the relative safety and…

And what? Barricade the door and wait until she either starves to death or Alice appears, at which point she would have the privilege of watching her best and only friend in the world be gunned down in an attempt to save her? This is not a situation that she can run from, and she knows Alice would ridicule her for allowing herself to be so easily trapped. If, that is, she has the luck to make it out of this mess.

"Turn around." She can't. Alice once told her that she would have to learn to look down the barrel of a gun without fear some day. Fawn always thought that when that day came she would have her friend at her side. She is pretty certain she can face anything with that woman next to her.

"The man tol' ya to turn around, kid" She squeezes her eyes shut and spins slowly on the heel of her foot. She's aware of whispering on the other side of the fence and manages to force herself to open one eye, though she quickly shuts it again with a squeak. She had, foolishly perhaps, assumed there was only one gun pointed at her, when in reality there are two, three if you count the crossbow wielded by a man in a leather, sleeveless vest.

"Drop the weapon" The first voice demands of her and she shakes her head passionately. No way in hell. "Just put the damn weapon down kid, what are you trying to prove?" He was losing his temper with her and she can't say she blames him. To go straight from a funeral to an armed child refusing to cooperate must be frustrating, but she just can't.

"I can't." She whispers, clutching her arms tighter around her body. "I can't. It's my friend's. We got separated but she'll find me, I know she will. I just have to wait here." Her voice drops to a whisper and she finally manages to open her eyes, though she still trembles in front of the gun barrels. "Please. I just need to wait. I won't be any bother. I won't come near any of you. I'll just wait right here and she'll find me and we'll leave" The young Asian man and the pretty brunette share a glance as they lower their weapons, though no attempt is made to holster them, and it is the pretty brunette that speaks next. The man in the leather vest doesn't move at all, and Fawn tries not to look at him.

"Where's your group, darlin'?" She has a kind voice and Fawn finds herself liking her almost immediately. She's a lot like Alice was in the beginning, right down to the sparkling green eyes, though Fawn thinks Alice's are much prettier.

_When you need help, Fawny, don't be ashamed to be sweet. People now-a-days, they want you to be sweet. They want to rescue you. So don't be ashamed to bat those big brown eyes and play them all for fools. Only you matter now, you and kids like you. Fuck the adults. One day, someone like you, someone blameless and smart and tough will find out all this was our fault somehow anyway. _

"I don't have one. It's just me and Alice. But there was a herd and she stayed behind so they wouldn't follow me. She hasn't found me yet. She will though. She always does." Her voice is reedy and weak and the pair exchange another glance. The man with the crossbow shifts his weight slightly, probably just to accommodate the weight of his weapon more comfortably on his shoulder, and Fawn flinches visibly. The young woman shoots him a glare and gestures to him to lower the weapon. He does, resentfully, but keeps it ready to raise and fire.

"What's your name?" This time it's the young man who speaks, his voice much gentler that it was before.

"Fawn." She practically squeaks. The look on their faces is one she sees often. They'd like to take the weapon from her hands and replace it with a toy doll, they'd like to take off the oversized leather jacket and put her in a sun-dress instead. People always seem to want her to be cute. Alice didn't. Alice wanted her to be tough.

"Fawn?" The girl nods, managing to stop her trembling finally. "My name's Maggie, this is Glenn and that's Daryl" Fawn manages a nod to each, which Glenn returns with a weak smile and Daryl doesn't even acknowledge. "How about you give me that bat and we go wait inside? I'm sure Alice wouldn't want you to wait out here with the Walkers"

Fawn tilts her head at the woman, trying to decipher her kindness. The pity in the woman's eyes is clue enough "You think she's dead" She states flatly, suddenly not so scared of the trio now Alice's strength had been brought into question. "She's not dead. She's _not_. You don't know her. Nothing stops Alice from looking after me"

Maggie nods, attempting a warm smile. "Of course she's not dead. No sense in waiting out here though. You can tell everyone what she looks like and we can keep an eye out for her, when she turns up she can have her bat back and you two can go."

Fawn eyes the woman seriously for a few moments, before offering one decisive nod of her head. "Okay."

_But only until tomorrow. Tomorrow I'll go find her myself._


	4. Chapter 4

Fawn

**Solefaith made an interesting point, I had completely forgotten to specify when the story takes place. The sirens Fawn heard in the woods were the sirens from the episode Killer Within. She arrives after Daryl and Maggie return from collecting formula for baby Judith, just as the group are holding the funerals for Lori, T-Dog and Carol.**

**The men who attacked the group Fawn was with are indeed Merle and others from Woodbury, and their connection to the two girls will be made apparent fairly soon :) Thanks to everyone for the reviews and follows.**

**I don't own the Walking Dead or any characters or plot you recognise.**

Chapter Four: Probably Dead

Things have gotten closer to the sun

And I've done things in small doses

So don't think that I'm pushing you away

When you're the one that I've kept closest

**- Crystalised, The XX**

_For the first six months it had just been Fawn and Alice, alone on the road. They had taken Mr Lyons' motorbike and headed for Atlanta._

_By the time they reached the city there was nothing left, no safe zone, no military, unless of course you counted an army of the dead._

_They'd been forced to hole up in an abandoned apartment. Alice said it wouldn't be long until the Roamers forgot about them and moved on in search of easier prey._

_It was nearly a week, nearly a full week in the dark, listening to the creatures outside. It reminded Fawn of the time she'd spent alone in the basement of her parents __house. She tried not to cry in front of Alice. It didn't seem fair to have come so far just to be back where she started._

_One evening, as they were beginning to give up hope, an explosion from just a few blocks away ripped the sky apart. They rushed to the window, thinking that perhaps at long last the military had come. What they saw only devastated Fawn even more._

_The CDC, the place they had travelled halfway across the state to find, their last hope for a safe zone, Fawn's last, desperate hope for her family, was gone. But, at the very least, so were the Roamers, drawn off by the noise and heat._

_The two left Atlanta as soon as it was light enough to see._

_Fawn's favourite memories since the world ended were of that time. She'd ride in front of Alice on the bike, and the both of them would be zipped up snugly inside Alice's huge leather jacket. She liked hearing her friend's heart beat over the sound of the engine and the feeling of the wind on her face. They would camp in the woods and Alice would read books and tell stories by the camp-fire. She liked the freedom. Things were simple, but they made sense._

_They joined the group on a highway. Fawn and Alice were headed north and the group east. That was Alice's choice, north. She said it seemed right, though she couldn't explain why._

_They were nice, those people. They took good care of Fawn and Alice, Alice was a trained nurse and Fawn was part and parcel of having her with them so they treated them both kindly. She tried not to show it, but Fawn missed the times when it was just the two of them._

_Alice settled almost seamlessly in, but she struggled. She didn't like the other children and the way they were all forced to stay within the camp or in the presence of an adult at all times. Before, when they were on the road, Alice never treated her like a child and it irritated her that she was being dismissed as such by those strangers._

_Two months after they first joined that group the men appeared. It was late evening and Fawn was dozing off, leaning against Alice's arm. Their tent was set up near the centre of camp, which Alice always told Fawn was a privilege they should be thankful for, and around them people were slowly turning in for the night._

_Fawn watched her friend's slim fingers as they elegantly weaved back and forth. For a while now she had been working on her little project, carefully cross-stitching the word "FAWN" across the front pocket of the girl's rucksack in yellow thread. Fawn watched for a lack of anything else to do._

_"There." Alice said with a grin, presenting the finished product to the girl. "What do you think, Fawny?"_

_I__t was the first and only gift she had received since it all began and she thanked her friend sincerely. That such a small thing would come to be so important to her is __strange, really. Alice smiled and slung her arm over the girl's shoulder, planting a loud, exaggerated kiss on the top of her head. "You're welcome, sweetheart. Now off to bed with you"_

_A lot of people didn't make it until the morning. Fawn and Alice did, but the woman was.. different. Ever since that night, Fawn thinks of the man with the blue eyes, and wishes they'd stayed on that motorbike headed north._

"Doesn't it bother you?" She'd been like this since she woke up, less than an hour before, just pacing back and forth across the floor of the small cell like a caged animal. The two men who had met her at the fences early that day, Glenn and Daryl, had been missing all day and Fawn was more than certain they'd been searching for her camp. She needs to know if they found any trace of Alice, but the _stupid_ boy won't tell her. So she paces.

The stupid boy in question, her keeper, pulls the brim of his hat further down over his eyes and ignores her, but she refuses to take the hint. "Really? It should bother you. Of course, if you enjoy being treated like a child that's your decision I guess…" She gives up on her pacing and sits cross-legged on the hard mattress instead, folding her arms over her skinny chest. He shoots her a warning glare and Fawn smirks to herself. Roscoe had been this boy's age before the outbreak, and she was well practised in getting under his skin.

"If it were me, I'd be offended. Even the baby's down there. They're pretty much saying your opinion means less to them than a newborn's" She lies back on the bed, wondering when the last time she'd slept in one was. "I bet they told you it was _important_ that you stay here and keep an eye on me. I mean, cause I'm _so_ dangerous locked in this cell, completely unarmed. They must have _so_ much respect for you." With a laugh Fawn shoves her hands into her pocket and sits up, curious to see the effect her words have had on him. He glares down the hallway, only looking at her when she stands and walks back over to the door.

"You know, if you want, you can go listen. I don't mind." The boy's face screams distrust, but the curious glances he shots down the hall speak volumes. "Of course, I'm not saying I won't rat you out the first chance I get." she says with a shrug, leaning against the wall.

"I just want to know if they found my friend. If you let me out we can both go and listen. I won't tell a soul, you can march me back in this cell and lock the door and I won't fight even a little. It'll be our secret." His face hardens at her suggestion and she shrugs again, picking at the dirt beneath her nails.

"Suit yourself, God knows it's not my place to try to stop you from being such a baby" The boy pushes himself up with anger and a grin creeps across her face when she notices that she stands a few inches taller than him. Perhaps he realises as well, because he squares his shoulders and straightens his back in a way he probably hopes makes him seem taller.

"I have a gun." He growls, reaching for his hip.

Fawn, smile unwavering, continues with her nails. From the corner of her eye she can see him clenching his fists in anger and her smile only widens. Obviously struggling with some inner debate he eventually reaches into his pocket for the key, pausing when she finally turns to him. "I'm only doing this because I want to know what's going on." He informs her. "If you try anything, _anything at all_, I will shoot you." With that warning he unlocks the door and Fawn shoves it open, catching him unaware so that he momentarily loses his balance.

"I'm Fawn." She says with a grin, extending her hand towards him. He glares at her for a while before eventually accepting the gesture with a sour look on his face. She has to lean in quite close to hear him mutter;

"Carl"

* * *

Fawn and Carl lie with their bellies pressed against the cold metal of the walkway, peering down at the group. It's with a sickening lurch in her stomach that she recognises the shapes at Daryl's feet. Alice's grubby old grey hiking bag and Fawn's battered blue school rucksack, but no Alice. She takes a deep breath, though tears threaten to spill from her eyes, and forces herself to listen to what's being said below.

"There was definitely a herd there recently" Glenn speaks and the others are respectfully silent. "The only tracks Daryl could find leading out were pretty small, probably her's"

An old man with a long beard, who Fawn has yet to be introduced to, speaks next, breaking the rather uncomfortable silence that seems to have fallen on them. "She told the truth then." Everyone's eyes seem to move to Daryl, who only offers a single shoulder shrug as an answer. "Did you find any sign of her friend?"

"No tracks leadin' away" Daryl grunts, kneeling down to unzip Alice's huge, heavy bag. "No corpse either, least not one the kid'd recognise 'nyways"

"She might have been chased away by the herd when it left the area" Glenn adds, watching Daryl pull things from the bag.

"Those Walkers weren't chasin' anything. Those bastards were jus' strollin' when they left tha' camp." The hunter corrects him, lining the few things of interest he finds in the bag on the floor. "Got a handgun and two boxes of ammo here. The kid's got her bat. She ain't got any weapons, so if she ain't dead yet, she's gonna be soon." Silence falls over them all at that and Fawn's stomach turns at the thought.

It's Maggie who eventually speaks up. "You don't get to say that, Daryl." She scolds him, but he barely seems to care. "And you don't get to go through that girl's stuff. I'll check her bag for weapons and take it to her. Daddy, Beth, you both need to rest and so does the baby. We'll continue this discussion in the morning"

At her words, Fawn and Carl both scramble to their feet as quietly as they can and rush back towards the cell. They barely have time to lock the door behind her when Maggie arrives at the end of the hallway carrying Fawn's bag. "You can go now Carl. It's gettin' late." Her voice is tired and she holds out her hand for the key he carries. Carl gives it to her and turns to leave, pausing by the door as he does.

"Uh. Bye Fawn" He doesn't look at her as he says it and she just waves in return before he scurries off down the hall. Maggie watches him go with a look of concern and seems to completely forget about Fawn's presence.

"That's my bag." She pushes her hand through the bars towards the woman. "Please may I have it?" Maggie seems surprised by her voice and nods, passing it through to her. The girl sits on the bed and begins emptying the rucksack while Maggie stands at the door in silence.

"Fawn. I don't know how I'm meant to say this to you but… Your friend, she's probably dead." Fawn stops searching through her bag and fixes the woman with a long, cold stare. "It's true. She's not got a gun or her bat and no-one could find any trace of her…"

Something clicks in Fawn's head and she interrupts. "Was there a gun in my bag?"

"Yes. I took it."

She laughs with pure relief. Maggie watches her for a while with a look on her face suggests she thinks the girl is mad and she struggles to explain herself. "Alice had my gun. The last time I saw her she had _both_ guns in her hands. She put them away _after_ she dealt with that herd" Fawn lets herself fall back onto the mattress.

"She's alive."


	5. Chapter 5

Fawn

**Happy Sunday everyone :). I hope all you lucky Americans are busy getting excited for the Season Finale tonight! I would say I am, but I still have a few days to wait before I get that pleasure :P No spoilers please, just lots of lovely reviews/constructive criticism if you would be so kind :).**

**Thanks again for the follows and reviews I've had so far, you are lovely people, aren't you?**

**:) I also wanted to quickly say to taylorgrimsley.14 that I'm very sorry for forgetting to answer you before, I sent you a PM in response to your question but obviously it wasn't received so I apologise for appearing to ignore you :)**

**I don't own the Walking Dead or any plot or characters you recognise.**

Chapter Five: Calling In Favours

**Grace is a gift for the fallen dear**

**You're an angry blade and you're brave**

**But you're all alone**

Iron & Wine, An Angry Blade.

Once she was fully confident Fawn had made it away, Alice had climbed up to the top branches of an old pine and emptied the clips of both handguns into the writhing mass of corpses in the hope that the noise would distract them from following after the girl. She'd waited up that tree for hours, almost certain that her end had finally come, before the sirens blared out across the woods. As one, the Roamers turned their rotten heads towards the sound and staggered off, leaving behind them only a few stragglers and the lingering stench of death.

For a while she peered out into the leafy canopy, trying to pinpoint the location of the noise, only allowing herself to relax slightly when she felt confident it was not coming from the direction in which Fawn had run. Her eyelids were heavy and it had been many hours since she last rested, but she couldn't allow herself the pleasure of sleep, knowing that instead she must wait, wide awake, in the branches. Fawn needed her. She couldn't sleep until the girl was safe.

Hours after the sirens had fallen silent she finally judged it safe enough to lower herself down to the bloodstained earth.

Those left behind were the weakest of the horde, more starved and decomposed than the rest, and provided no challenge to Alice when she took them out with a single, decisive stab to each head. Once they were all dead she set to work packing up the camp, chewing on a single stick of tasteless gum to silence her grumbling stomach. Her hands were steady as she carefully reloaded Fawn's gun and returned it to the front pocket of the girl's backpack, pausing only to run her thumb across the embroidered 'F' with an unfathomable look in her green eyes. Only Fawn would have recognised the sheer exhaustion on the woman's face.

She dropped the bag at a sound behind her, a twig crunching beneath a heavy foot, reaching instead for the knife at her hip and spinning towards the incoming threat in a defensive crouch. Her eyes narrowed with disdain at the newcomer, but she took her hand away from the hilt of her knife and straightened slightly. "Oh. It's you." There was no surprise in her voice and she turned back to packing away Fawn's crumpled and muddy sleeping bag.

"Yeah sugartits, it's me." Alice could practically hear the smirk in his voice and her eyes rolled of their own accord at the disgusting nickname. "Got time for a quick walk? Leave the gun, we won't be long." She glanced back at him, face contorting in a frown, and shuddered at the wink he shot her. "Unless you want, that is."

"Why on earth would I do that?" She answered finally, ignoring the last comment, as she turned to him again and crossed her arms defiantly over her skinny chest. He smirked at her, blue eyes sparkling as he took a few steps closer.

"'Cause last time I checked, _darlin'_, you owed me one hell of a favour. I'm callin' it in." There was something in his piercing blue eyes she'd never seen before, hidden behind his usual cocky swagger, and it shocked Alice when she saw it. He was _scared_.

Of what? She couldn't help but wonder. Out here in the woods there was only him, the Roamers and…

Her. Oh.

She couldn't help but smirk.

* * *

Alice looked across the ruined camp with dismay. She hadn't been gone that long, barely even fifteen minutes. Her eyes narrowed and she cursed herself. How on earth could she have been so stupid? Obviously this was his plan all along, to distract her while the others did this. And to think she'd nearly felt sorry for the man.

"Shit" She ran a hand through her thick, dirty hair, knotting her fingers in at the roots and tugging with frustration. It was gone. Her old, battered grey hiking bag, Fawn's worn and faded blue rucksack, the food, the water, the guns. It was all gone.

For a while she stood there, hands still tangled up in her greasy hair, staring off into the middle distance. Alice would never forgive herself for losing that bag, but it was too late to worry about that. The sun was already starting to dip towards the horizon and finding Fawn was more important than recovering whatever sentimental items had been stolen, however treasured they might be. The _guns_ though, she couldn't believe she'd been so stupid as to lose the _guns_, after all Fawn had been through to get them...

She shook her head, finally releasing her scalp from her vice-like grip and realising how hard she had really been pulling. The tips of her pale fingers rubbed at the sore skin as she thought and the hint of a frown danced across her brow. After a while she paused and the frown began to fade, if only ever so slightly. Her eyes had landed on a spot a few feet away where a thick, heavy looking chunk of wood lay half buried under one of the many corpses that littered the small clearing, a small taste of what happened there the night before.

She pulled it out with a grunt, wrinkling her nose at the stench that rose from the disturbed corpse, and carefully swung the branch a few times to test the weight. Satisfied with her find, she moved to set off, stopping only for a moment to carve a message on the old pine with the tip of her knife.

Alice, knife gleaming in one hand and tree branch clutched in the other, turned her back on the empty camp and set off at a fast walk into the forest, inexperienced eyes scanning the ground for any trace of a trail that only a tracker much more skilled than she could find. She would find Fawn, she knew it. She couldn't afford to not know it.

The sap of the freshly cut tree seeped out through the thick gashes in the bark, oozing like Roamer blood as it trickled down the cracks and canyons in the rough skin of the old tree.

_F._

_NT DED._

_LUKIN 4 U._

_W8 HRE._

_A._

* * *

"Where are you going?" Fawn heaves a sigh and runs her fingers through her recently washed hair, frowning as the still wet strands catch in the tiny cuts and grazes in her palms. The group had finally stopped keeping her under lock and key but all day she had been forced to stay in the sight of the young blonde girl, currently sat on the grass feeding the newborn, and already she is tiring of her company.

They'd been kind enough at least to let her wash, but the girl had even waited at the door while Fawn bathed, bouncing the baby in her arms like she always seemed to do. Annoyed, Fawn wants nothing more than to be away from her watchful gaze for just a few moments. She longs to be out in the woods with her weapons, searching for her best and only friend.

"Can I ask you a question, Beth?" The blonde nods, and, though she tries her best to seem friendly, her eyes are narrowed with distrust. "Am I a prisoner here?" There is no answer beyond the further narrowing of the girl's eyes and Fawn nods thoughtfully, shoving her hands into the pockets of Alice's leather jacket that she still wears despite the warm sun that beats down on her. "I'd like to go for a walk, if that's okay with you?"

Beth glances down at the baby in her arms, ignoring Fawn for slightly longer than she is comfortable with, before nodding without even glancing at her. "Stay in sight. Don't wander off." She nods with another sigh, setting off down the small incline towards the fences and kicking tufts of long grass as she goes.

A small breeze tugs at her damp hair and she shudders even though the day is still hot. She stops at the fences, sparing a glance behind her to where Beth watches her every move intently while she bounces the baby in her arms. Turning her back on the girl, Fawn tangles her fingers through the wire mesh, eyes scanning the treeline for any human movement. The few Roamers that stagger gracelessly through the tall grass on the other side of the high fences take an interest in her, and Fawn's face is completely blank as she watches them lurch towards her until the wire mesh bites and cuts into their flesh.

She glances back to Beth again, chewing on her lip, and finds the girl distracted by the sudden appearance of a few others, most of whom Fawn had yet to be introduced to. She takes the opportunity to wander closer to the gates so that she might check the road leading to the prison.

In the distance, when she glances up yet again at the small group of people gathered around the blonde girl, she can see a tall man gesturing towards her. Though Fawn can't hear what he says, his body language is tense and angry. She surmises that this stranger can only be the famous Rick of which she has heard the others speak, and that he is not pleased by her presence. She doesn't care. She doesn't care about any of them.

Fawn just keeps walking, running her fingers over the cold metal as she goes. Completely lost in thoughts of her own she doesn't notice the stranger approach her, until her wandering gaze locks with a pair of intense, _living_, brown eyes. She stops dead in her tracks.

On the other side of the fences stands a woman, drenched in blood and guts, beaten and bleeding, more than likely only moments away from unconsciousness, not Alice but at the very least _alive_.

Fawn stares, unable to do anything else, as heavy, hurried footsteps approach behind her. She can't bring herself to look away from the stranger with the haunting brown eyes.


End file.
